Everyone's Gotta Come Home
by Lady Knight 1512
Summary: Everyone's gotta come home sometime, Rach. I didn't know that then."


**Title:** Everyone's Gotta Come Home  
**Author:** ladyknight1512  
**Fandom: **Glee  
**Characters:** Rachel Berry, Noah "Puck" Puckerman  
**Pairing: **Puck/Rachel friendship  
**Genre:** Friendship/General  
**Rating: **G  
**Prompt: **3: A park bench  
**Summary: **"Everyone's gotta come home sometime, Rach. I didn't know that then."  
**Spoilers: **None  
**Warning(s): **None  
**Word Count: **1092  
**Disclaimer:** These characters belong to Ryan Murphy. I am not him.  
**A/N: **I wanted to have a go at writing something quiet and reflective, as opposed to my usual angsty drama. Let me know how I did please.

**- - -**

Most people don't realise Lima, Ohio is large enough to warrant a park, let alone a park bench.

Of course, Rachel mused form her post on said bench, "most people" were often mistaken, if not outright wrong.

Despite it being mid-summer, it was still early, the sun just peeking over the horizon, so the world had yet to be affected by heat. Add to that the lack of other people out and about, and Rachel felt like she was the only person in the whole world. Yes, she liked the spotlight—how could she not, when she'd been raised with the constant praise and attention from her dads?—but there was something about the early morning stillness and quiet that she enjoyed more than any other time of day.

She closed her eyes, feeling the rising sun warm the right side of her face, and breathed deep. The world smelled fresh and new.

Grass crunched somewhere near her and Rachel's eyes blinked open. The sun was at the stranger's back, making him—and it had to be a him with shoulders as broad as those—a mere silhouette.

Thankfully, he spoke when she turned her gaze to him, shading her eyes against the glare, and she was able to identify him.

"Rachel Berry." His voice was low and rough, much unchanged from the way it was in high school.

A smile quirked the corner of her mouth. She was too languid to gift him with the dazzling, megawatt grin she usually wore.

"Noah Puckerman."

He sat beside her and finally she could see his face. His eyes looked heavy from sleep and he hadn't shaved yet. The Mohawk was gone, a full head of, albeit short, hair in its place. Had it been longer, she was sure it would be sticking up in all directions.

"I heard you were back in town," he said and she frowned.

"You did?"

Noah nodded, stretching his legs out in front of him and crossing them at the ankles. He leaned back against the bench and laced his fingers over his stomach.

"The whole town's talking about it. Rachel Berry, Lima's one and only claim to fame, has returned to the fold. I didn't believe them but it looks like they were right."

"Is my being here so strange?"

He shrugged. "I just thought that, you know, once you'd made it to New York you wouldn't have reason to come back."

It was something she'd always thought too, but now, hearing it from him, the thought made her uncomfortable.

"My dads' are still here."

"Not for long, though. Mom told me they're moving to be closer to you."

His words weren't happy or angry or bitter or anything other than matter of fact. He spoke them like the statement they were and so Rachel had nothing but silence to meet them with.

They were quiet for a while, listening to the birds and the town as it woke and began its day. For once, Rachel had nothing to say or, perhaps more accurately, no reason to speak. She'd learnt years ago, from Noah no less, that sometimes you had to let the world speak to you, instead of the other way around. In the end, though, she had to ask.

"What are you doing in town? Wasn't your plan always to leave and never look back?"

He laughed and Rachel smiled; it was a nice sound, not like that harsh, angry chuckle from their teens.

"Everyone's gotta come home sometime, Rach. I didn't know that then."

She could feel there was more to it than that in the heaviness of the silence, so she waited and was rewarded when he turned his attention to her face.

"I got married." He smirked and then shrugged. "Then I got divorced."

Rachel nodded in understanding, even as she bit her lip and simultaneously decided that honesty deserved honesty.

"I got the lead in an off-Broadway production. Then I got fired."

Noah patted her shoulder as a car rattled down the street behind them. A moment later, a screen door banged shut and in one of the houses close by, a baby began crying.

Rachel sighed.

"It never lasts, does it?"

She shook her head and then stretched, toes pointing straight out and fingers reaching for the sky. She could feel his gaze on her, even though her eyes were closed.

Noah stood and held out a hand to pull her to her feet. As they started back towards her car, she glanced at him from the corner of her eye and stifled a smile when she saw he still completely dwarfed her. She was struck by the sudden urge to make him hold out his arm, just so she could see it she could walk under it without ducking.

She never got the chance. They stopped beside her car and Rachel was reached into a pocket for her keys when he laid a hand on her arm. It was a gesture so completely unlike the Noah of old that she couldn't help but freeze.

"I don't wanna freak you out or anything," he said, "but you're the first person from Glee that I've seen in years and my house it right across the street." He pointed and she turned to look.

It was a small place, just one storey, of red brick with a varnished porch at the front. A porch swing hung on the right; Rachel was pleased to see a guitar case resting on it. In the drive was a black Range Rover.

She turned back to him. "And?"

"And…" He ran a hand over his hair. "I thought maybe you'd like some coffee."

His hesitance was sweet but Rachel knew well enough to keep that piece of information to herself. In any case, she was in a similar position to him. She hadn't seen anyone from New Directions since the summers she'd spent in Lima during college. Back then she might have been shocked at the idea of having coffee with the man in front of her. Back then, they'd never quite been able to see eye to eye.

Now, though, there was something about him that spoke to her. He was calmer, less angry, more at peace with the hand life had dealt him. Or maybe he just better understood that he could do with that hand anything he pleased.

So she smiled, linked her arm with his and said, "I'd love some coffee."

He smiled back at her and they crossed the road together.

**End**


End file.
